


On Shapeshifting and Its Various (Mis)uses

by violasarecool



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 11:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15862584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violasarecool/pseuds/violasarecool
Summary: Shapeshifting is a complex, subtle thing, requiring patience and skill—and yet it is often (mis)used in the most unorthodox and frivolous ways.—FromIn Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of A Chantry Scholar,by Brother Genitivi





	On Shapeshifting and Its Various (Mis)uses

i.

The fire crackled gently, its low light flickering over the sleeping form stretched out across a bedroll not feet away. In the darkness beyond, something glimmered, many somethings, blinking eyes far too large and far too numerous. There was a skittering sound, and the shadow grew, its huge mass looming above the prone figure on the ground—

"Morrigan," Quentin said, coming to stand between her and Alistair. "Be nice."

The spider seemed to glare at him for a moment before visibly deflating—no, literally deflating, shrinking away until all that was left was a human figure. Morrigan straightened, giving a deep sigh. "You are so very boring."

ii.

A spotted cat darted across the forest floor, weaving through the undergrowth with singular purpose. Its ears pricked forward as it paused behind a wide tree trunk, voices echoing in a wide clearing. A moment later, it ran out into the open, squeezed through a gap between two caravans, leaping out towards one of the smaller caravans.

"And where do you think you're going?" came a voice, and the cat skidded to a halt, ears back as it turned around toward the voice. A short, chubby elf stared down at the cat, arms crossed, her thick brows low as she gave the cat a sweeping look. "And _what's in your mouth?"_

The cat took a slow step back; the tiny creature in its mouth squirmed, its dark tail flicking back and forth. "Liana Rajmael Lavellan! Is that your _brother?"_

The cat opened its mouth, and a small lizard scampered out. A moment later, two elven children sat on the ground in front of her _(unharmed, thank the creators)_ , sheepishly avoiding her gaze. "Half-brother," Liana muttered, shaking off the urge to lick the back of her hand.

The older elf sighed. "If you don't behave, you don't get to shapeshift at _all_ , understood?"

"Yes, mother."

"Yes, Mihra."

iii.

"This is a bad idea."

"Oh _come on_ , what's the worst that could happen?"

"We both fall to our deaths?"

Liana gave her (half-)brother a bright look. "Positive thoughts, Arahel. Maybe I'll be the only one who dies!"

"And I'll get in trouble for it," they grumbled, but adjusted their position in the tree, preparing to shapeshift. "You don't know if I can even slow your fall. Maybe we should try something else first."

Liana began to shrink, fur tufting the sides of her face. "Too late, I'm going!" she called, before jumping out of the tree.

Arahel gave a strangled shout. "I'm the one with wings, you ass!" they yelled, arms still sprouting feathers as they leapt after her.

iv.

Leliana stared up at the ravens chattering in and out of cages around the circular room. There was, if she was counting correctly (and she was almost positive she was), one too many birds in this room. She squinted at them suspiciously, eyes coming to rest on a particularly large, unfamiliar bird that sat on the railing, staring right back at her. "Very funny, Morrigan," Leliana said, rolling her eyes. "Please do not terrorize my ravens."

The bird tipped its head at her, then, after a moment, lifted its tail feathers, and let loose a wet glob down into the circle below. Leliana stared at it for a moment, then reached up to rub at her eyes. "I'm talking to a bird," she muttered to herself as she walked away, down the steps to the second level.

As she left, another bird fluttered down to her desk, watching her with bright eyes.

v.

"Tis a pity you are not a mage," Morrigan said to Fox one day, as they sat out in Skyhold's garden, a cool breeze stirring the trees and bushes. "You might learn to shapeshift into your namesake."

Zevran gave a surprised laugh, glancing between the two of them. "Fox the fox! What a handsome little fox you would make."

"Thematically appropriate shapeshifting?" Leliana said with an amused look, stretching back against the stone steps. "I would not have imagined such frivolity from you, Morrigan."

"She wears raven feathers," Fox said flatly. "And, you know, shapeshifts into a raven?"

Morrigan gave a huff of disdain. "They are feathers from a swallow, not a raven."

"Well, _excuse me."_

vi.

A dimly lit bar, so late into the night the sun was liable to start brightening the place up again before the candles had time to burn out. Though, given the events of the previous night, Shokrakar wasn't eager to see the place lit up. She stepped over a smashed chair, almost slipping in a puddle of what was _hopefully_ beer as she picked her way through the room. They'd be lucky if the Valo-kas weren't banned from the _city._

At the far end of the room, there was a groaning noise, and the form on the floor stirred. Shokrakar came to a stop, arms crossed. "You're not looking so bear-like anymore."

"Hnng?" The qunari lying on the ground—Baqoun—squinted up at her, one hand clutching at her head. "Oh fuck. How much did I _drink?"_

Shokrakar pulled Baqoun to her feet, watching with amusement as she took in the complete wreckage around them. "Enough, I think."

vii.

"When I was with the Valo-kas, about half of us could shapeshift," Val said to Bull. The courtyard in front of them was filled with sparring Qunari, most of which also currently _looked_ like Qunari.

"Still true," Shokrakar said wryly. "I thought that we'd stop picking up stray mages when you left, but they just keep finding us." She crossed her arms, watching as Ashaad barely managed to block a glancing blow from Sata-kas's enormous maul. "Keep your weapon up!" Shokrakar shouted. "You're getting sloppy; you can't shift out of every bad fight!"

A few feet away, Katoh was fighting one of the new recruits—Maraas-lok, a heavy-set Tal-Vashoth, their head lowered to reveal broken stubs of horns as they searched for an opening. A moment later, they burst forward, form rippling as they ran; magnificent curved horns burst out of their head as they shrank into the form of an august ram.

Bull watched as the ram crashed into Katoh horns-first. "So..."

"No," Val said.

"Gotta admit, it's more practical than the guys I've seen compensating with a sword twice as big as they are."

_"Bull."_


End file.
